Bear Story The following story was written for the Guardian by Mr. Gordon Douglas of Mount Stewart . It was related to him by Mr. James Gor ¬ man, one of the participants in the thrilling adventure. The setting was the vicinity of the old St. Alban's Anglican (Episcopal) Church which at that time stood in what is now the Peoples' Cemetery. It was in the winter of 1867. I was then engaged in setting rabbit snares. I remember I snared 140 in a wood on the outskirts of the village and within 100 yards of the Episcopal Church. For several mornings I had heard scratching near a huge pine tree that had been blown out at the roots, and on one occasion I saw large tracks in the snow. I mentioned this to father, who said it was only a dog's tracks. But I had an idea, although but a boy of 14 years, that such large claw marks could not be made by an ordinary scratcher. Howsomever, it was on a Sunday a neighbor boy of prodigious size, known by the sobriquet of "Big Samager" offered to accompany me to where the snares were, to show me some wonderful patent idea he had on rabbit-snaring. He always thought in his own mind he knew more than other people. We strolled leisurely to where the snares were, and, after he had explained his theory to me, we began to pick gum. "Samager" climbed up a young spruce tree to get a few choice blobs at the top, and I went out about 40 feet on this old pine tree which I before mentioned, and, having seated myself, was taking in my surroundings. To my surprise I heard an omnious scratching at the other end of the log. I at once crawled to where I heard the noise, and I shouted to "Samager" there was a nest of squirrels here. When the big fellow heard this, he just let himself drop to the ground, mowing limbs and bark off the tree from top to bottom as clean as if peeled with a knife. When "Samager" came and saw how the bush and limbs of trees were placed at the root of the huge pine, he at once came to the con¬ clusion it was a den of bears. In the meantime I had crept to a hole which afterwards proved to be for the purpose of letting air into the den, and, putting my ear to it, was listening to a peculiar rustling inside. Judge my surprise when I felt the breath of the old she-bear on my cheek and heard the snapping of her jaws inside. "Samager," who was close by, heard the snapping and shouted, "What is that, Jim? limbs cracking?" "No, by Judas," I replied, "but foxtraps snappin." After this, it was a race for who would get home first. As I was jumping from the tree, I could hear fearful tramping and stamping in the den, which fairly made the earth tremble, coming from the old bear to frighten us off. I have since learned they act very much, if dis¬ turbed, like an infuriated ram before he charges his victim. At the start the big fellow was ahead, striding and floundering in the deep snow, and lifting on his mudscows at every stride junks of snow the size of a puncheon. I soon passed him, once I got underway, and, going home, asked father for my big horse pistol. He had locked it away a few days before on account of my sending a load of "herb —126—